The Freedom of Death
by BlackFox12
Summary: Set after 9:21. The spirits are trapped in the Veil. That doesn't mean they can't communicate. Or that actions can't be dealt with. Contains spanking. Don't like? Don't read


**The Freedom of Death**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series Supernatural and I'm not making any money from this fic

 **Summary:** Set after 9:21. The spirits are trapped in the Veil. That doesn't mean they can't communicate. Or that actions can't be dealt with

 **Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers for up to season nine, episode twenty-one; AU; some mentions of violence and death

 **Author's Note:** This story has been in my head for a few weeks now. The plot bunny won't be ignored

 _The only way you'll be free of me is if I die. For real._

* * *

Abaddon's taunting voice had haunted Josie since she'd accepted the demon into her... and through the long years, she'd been forced to watch as the Knight (talk about corrupting a word) committed all sorts of atrocities using her form and voice. By the time her body had been resurrected so that Abaddon could continue using her as a meatsuit, Josie had lost all hope of ever escaping her fate.

But the ties keeping her chained to Abaddon had dissolved.

Josie wasn't expecting heaven. She was reasonably sure telling a Knight of Hell to possess you was a one-way ticket to hell itself... no matter what your reasons for doing so. Besides, the few times that Abaddon had allowed her to surface enough to 'listen', it sounded like heaven was a locked cage. No one getting in. No one getting out.

It was dark. That was the first thing that Josie realised as she became aware of the freedom she now had... even if that freedom meant that she had to die. At first, she wondered if her eyes were closed; but when she touched her face, she nearly poked herself in the eye.

Which did beg the question... could a ghost actually poke herself in the eye? Josie wasn't too keen on the idea of testing that out. She knew that ghosts could be banished temporarily, or exorcised entirely by burning their bones, or whichever earthly object they were attached to. But since interviewing ghosts was never high on the list of hunters... or the Men of Letters... Josie thought she might have to be careful even in this new environment.

The darkness seemed absolute, but that wasn't all. It felt thick... like damp fog; or smoke, without the acrid stench. Josie extended a finger, but she could barely see it in front of her. When she began moving through the darkness, it felt like she was trying to push through thick sludge.

After only a few steps (not that her feet were coming into contact with anything, but 'floating through the air' didn't have quite the same ring to it), Josie realised she could make out flashes. There was nothing that she obviously recognised... but she paused, in the hopes the glimpses would encompass the darkness.

Instead, it only pressed in thicker around her.

Maybe _this_ was her punishment. She'd willingly given up her freedom in life... and it was continuing in death. But if this was hell, where was the proverbial lake of fire? The souls screaming in agony?

Josie began walking again, but as if her pause had caused the darkness to grow thicker around her, she found it nearly impossible to push through. She managed a stumbling two steps before she had to stop, clenching her teeth to stop any sounds of frustration escaping her.

If there _was_ anything here... she didn't want to give it the satisfaction of knowing it was getting to her.

The pause gave Josie time to remember what Abaddon had done with her hands... her body... all the people who had died because of her. Even Henry... whether by accident or design, Abaddon had released Josie from her internal prison; so that she could feel the fatal wound she gave to the man she loved... the man she'd sacrificed herself for.

They were all hard to bear, but his was the worst.

Josie's eyes felt damp, but she refused to allow the tears to fall. Crying, no matter how long it went on for, was therapeutic... and Josie knew she didn't deserve any kind of release from the agony she'd caused.

It wasn't really a floor, but the black fog was thick enough for Josie to sit down, feeling like a wounded animal. She closed her eyes (the darkness was unnerving, but at least with her eyes closed, she could pretend it wasn't there) and lowered her head, deciding to just wait out eternity here.

Where she couldn't hurt anyone else.

"I never thought you'd lie down and give up."

Josie wasn't sure if the voice was real or in her head. She didn't dare look up... just in case she _was_ alone and was starting to lose her mind. She found herself replying anyway, part of her noting just how familiar the voice sounded... but it could only be a way of torturing her even further. Still, the hope was difficult to shake. "It seems better for everyone."

"I disagree."

Josie had learned long ago to rely on her other senses, rather than just sight. Hiding in the closet had been the only way she'd survived the massacre of her family as a small child... and she'd been in there for so long, she'd been able to hear and feel every slight creak... or movement of the creepy-crawlies that had made their home in the tiny closet.

Which was how Josie realised there was someone crouching in front of her. And she _knew_ there were supernatural entities who could mimic human voices out there... but she was so desperate to believe, she opened her eyes.

The darkness felt just as thick as before, but it had become light enough that Josie could see Henry, crouched in front of her and watching her with a sad look on his face. She swallowed and felt the tears welling up faster. "I'm sorry..." Right now, she didn't care if he was a shapeshifter or a mirage, conjured up by what was left of her desperate mind. Just being able to _see_ him gave her a bit of hope she didn't think she'd deserve.

"What are you saying sorry for?"

Josie stared at him, but she responded anyway. "I killed you... I killed the Men of Letters... I did so many horrible things to so many people..." Her voice caught on a sob.

Henry's hand came to rest on Josie's shoulder. Ignoring her stiffening in response, he shifted closer to her. "You went through the same studies I did. What the demon did when it possessed you wasn't your doing." He paused and a much more serious look came over his face. "Since I realised you'd been possessed, I've been thinking about _how_. The only explanation I can come up with is that it happened when we were at that convent and I had been knocked out."

Not sure where he was going with this, Josie nodded slowly.

Henry rested his other hand on Josie's opposite shoulder, ducking his head to make eye contact with her. "I was unconscious. Why did the demon not use me as a host?"

"Who can say why a demon chooses a host?" Josie felt herself growing anxious. She wasn't sure she liked the direction this line of questioning was going in.

"If the demon wanted to infiltrate the Men of Letters, it would have been better off possessing me. Josie..." Henry's hands tightened a fraction on her shoulders. "I care about you. I love you. Death hasn't changed that."

Josie wanted to pull away from him. She wanted to burst out that he didn't love her the way she _wanted_ him to. Death wouldn't have changed that. The only reason he was here with her was because heaven was closed off to ghosts.

But she should be going to hell.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Josie replied. "Whatever the reason for it, both of us are dead... so there's no point in talking about what happened before."

A look that Josie recognised came over Henry's face. They'd been friends... _good_ friends... for a long time, but compared to Henry's much calmer nature, Josie had been more fiery... more likely to do something she shouldn't, whether it was to prove a point or because she wanted to track a supernatural entity and was too impatient to check everything out first; or wait for backup.

Without another word, Henry propped up his right foot. Josie didn't have much time to wonder what he was propping his foot on (was there something he could see that she couldn't?) before Henry was tugging her over his raised leg.

Completely stunned by the position she found herself in, Josie didn't even have the presence of mind to _try_ struggling. She reached down, wrapping her hand around Henry's ankle, and tensed up when she felt Henry lift his hand.

For all that the dark fog had been difficult to push through, it didn't seem to make a difference as Henry's hand landed on Josie's backside. She stiffened, but wasn't given a chance to catch her breath (another weird thing... ghosts shouldn't actually need to breathe) before the next smack landed... in exactly the same place.

For all that Henry wasn't that much older than she was, Josie had found herself in this position far too often for her liking. Sadly, she knew this particular type of spanking well. When Henry wanted to make an impression, he'd land several swats in the same spot... and then move on, doing the same until her entire bottom had been given attention.

This time was no exception. After several hard swats in one spot, Josie felt Henry start in on the other side. Within moments, she was squirming... but Henry simply hugged her tighter against his stomach and kept her still.

By the time Henry reached Josie's thighs, Josie was whimpering softly and trying to pull away from him. He rested his hand on the waistband of her trousers and Josie tensed up... but he didn't immediately pull them down. "Let me tell you what I think. I think you offered yourself in my place. I think you told Abaddon to possess you instead of me."

"If you already knew that, why bother asking me?" Josie couldn't help the smart retort that sprang to her lips.

"I'd suggest you lose the attitude while you're in this position."

"Why? Is it going to make you stop spanking me?"

"I might go easier on you."

Josie snorted softly. "It doesn't normally make a difference to you." Henry had never once given her more than he felt she deserved... though considering what she'd done, he might as well give her the severest spanking ever.

Henry didn't bother making a reply. Maybe he felt it was unnecessary. Instead, the next moment, Josie felt him tug her trousers down, along with her underwear. She had perhaps half a second to think that maybe she _should_ have toned down the attitude... and then Henry was swatting her bare backside.

Josie sucked her breath in sharply. It _hurt_. Somehow, she'd managed to forget that. Of course, it wasn't just about the pain. This position was humbling... made her feel like a child. And it was more than that. It was difficult to realise that she'd pushed so that Henry, normally so mild-mannered and gentle, felt like he _had_ to do this.

Henry abandoned his methodical approach in favour of sharp swats that landed all over. Josie's backside had already been sore and tender... now, the 'warm up' was over and every time Henry's hand landed, she couldn't stop the whimpers or quiet cries of pain she couldn't quite bite back.

"You should _never_ have sacrificed yourself for me." There was a strange note in Henry's voice. It wasn't quite anger... not quite disappointment, either, though both were there.

"Like you wouldn't have done the same." Josie couldn't stop the whimper as Henry's hand shifted lower, targeting her thighs for the next several swats. She kicked her legs and wondered if this time was different enough that Henry would push her far over the edge if she pushed him enough.

"No. I wouldn't have."

Josie stilled. She shouldn't have expected any different. Henry had had a wife and son, after all. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

"Don't underestimate how important you are to me and how important you've _always_ been," Henry said. "But figuring out how to save you would have meant being able to kill Abaddon sooner. I wouldn't have liked it, but at least there would have been _one_ person who knew the truth. If you'd saved yourself, then maybe you would have found a way. Through a hunter, or one of our organisation."

The weight of disappointment behind Henry's words was heavy and cut deep. The tears that Josie had been holding back for so long began to slip out of her eyes. She _hated_ disappointing Henry. And even though he'd forgiven her after every other spanking, there was a big part of her that wondered if this time was too much... if he'd leave her after this; leave he alone to deal with the pain her own actions had caused.

Which was no less than she deserved.

The sob that escaped her was soft, but as if that one sob opened the floodgates, Josie found herself crying unabashedly. She didn't _want_ to. Even this was better than no attention from Henry. But she couldn't help it after everything that happened... everything she was feeling right now. She went limp over Henry's knees, sobbing without pause.

And then she was up and in Henry's arms... and it didn't matter how little Josie felt she deserved the comfort; she couldn't help but wrap her arms around him and sob into his chest.

"Shh..." Henry soothed her, stroking her hair (which Josie hated. _Why_ had Abaddon changed the colour so vividly?) "I'm glad I found you."

Josie's breath hitched and she pressed closer to Henry. "Why? After what I've done..."

"That was Abaddon's doing. Not yours."

"Then why did you spank me?"

"Because you sacrificed yourself for me... and that will _never_ be acceptable."

"I can't apologise for that."

Henry pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I didn't expect you to, but you know my feelings on the matter. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Jose pressed in closer to Henry and decided she would try to make that enough.

 **The End**


End file.
